


Fight Club

by Onehelluvapilot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Episode Related, Episode: s04e12-13 The Sword in the Stone, Gwaine Flirts (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: AU of The Sword in the Stone focusing on Gwaine and Lancelot (who is very much alive and also not a shade) who Morgana is forcing to fight for her entertainment. What will they do when she forces them to fight each other?





	Fight Club

"Fight back, dammit," Gwaine hissed at Lancelot, low under his breath and the noise of their swords grinding steadily against each other. He had the other man pressed up against one of the columns of the throne room, sword blade disturbingly close to his neck. It hovered right below the line of his jaw, now covered in a scruffy, unshaven beard. The pressure Gwaine applied was carefully calculated to keep his partner on the defensive but not to actually overpower him. "We gotta make it a good show."

Lancelot finally caught on, the look of hurt on his face morphing into understanding. As soon as the guards had dragged both of them from their cell, Gwaine had known what was going to happen. When Morgana announced that today, they were going to be fighting each other for her entertainment, he had barely hesitated a beat before going after his friend. His own apparent ruthlessness bolstered his appearance as a hard-drinking and disloyal loner only lured into becoming a knight by the promise of coin, while Lancelot's shock at the betrayal solidified his own image as the honorable, bordering on innocent, commoner that had become a knight through virtue alone. They needed those reputations, and the obvious tension between them, to put on a good enough act to get them both out of this alive.

"You don't have to do this!" Lancelot shouted, loud enough for everyone around them to hear. He twisted to the side, letting Gwaine's sword hit the column where he had just stood, and slammed his shoulder into the other man's to knock him off balance. It was a move that the rogue himself had taught the knight, and he felt pride swell in his chest both for it, and his words. He was falling into his role perfectly. Anyone who thought Lancelot was too honorable to lie had clearly never seen the man act.

"Why, because you're my brother?" Gwaine mocked him, swinging around and bringing his sword up. "Please, only a child would believe that brothers never fight."

"I thought you were a child, from the way you act."

Gwaine rushed him then, playing into the pretend anger, and they sparred briefly before breaking apart again. It was easy for them to look vicious without actually hurting each other. Practice every morning had taught them each how the other moved and fought.

"Brotherly squabbles are different than murder, Gwaine," Lancelot continued. He kept both hands on his sword, and arranged his feet carefully to maintain posture facing his friend, who circled him hungrily. Even their different fighting styles reflected their characters.

"It's not murder, just survival." Gwaine threw a hand up towards the throne, where Morgana leared down at them. She was clearly enjoying the tale of betrayal they wove. "You heard her, it's you or me."

"I guess I should've known you'd always choose yourself over your vows." This time, Lancelot was the one to attack. Gwaine parried and reared back to avoid his blade.

"Self preservation is not selfish," he countered. "If it was, you'd have already let me kill you. Because we all know the oh so honorable Sir Lancelot would never stoop so low to allow himself to sin." He used that high mocking voice that always drove the rest of the knights crazy, especially Lancelot. To him, it was undignified and unbefitting of a knight. God, he really was every bit the parody Gwaine was making of him.

Speaking of which, he blushed, for God's sake. It took Gwaine a moment to realize that it was for recalling his actual "sins". He couldn't contain a laugh, and had to think quickly to explain it. 

"Oh my, what sins would make the honorable Sir Lancelot blush so?" He taunted. "Under other circumstances, I might just have to find out for myself. Not all love between knights must be brotherly."

Trust Gwaine to flirt while they're pretending to betray and fight each other, and actually fighting for their lives. At least all the talking left them long pauses between confrontations, so they wouldn't be worn out too quickly. The longer they could drag this out, the better their chances.

"I feel no love for false knights," Lancelot snarled.

"That's not what you said last night," Gwaine retorted. It didn't even make sense, given that they were both in the cells last night, and separate ones at that. 

"Last night was before you'd forsaken your vows." The knight rolled with the inaccuracy.

"I'm pretty sure you broke some vows last night as well."

"Would you get on with it already?" Someone called from the audience. Gwaine and Lancelot each paused and looked at each other apprehensively.

"Well, it's been nice talking, but you heard the man," Gwaine said with a shrug, and lunged. Lancelot worried for a second, almost believing the lie of his partner's callousness. Convincing himself, though, that there was a plan behind it, he let himself be pushed back. He wasn't as passive as before though, and swept Gwaine’s legs out from under him. His partner tripped him up in return, and he landed on top of him.

"You have to win," the rogue hissed into his ear, with an arm around Lancelot’s neck to hold him down. "Refuse to kill me, and hopefully they won't either." That was all he had time to say before it would look suspicious, and they broke apart and scrambled for their swords. 

The fight couldn't end immediately, they both knew. They went hard though now, all the playfulness replaced with brutality. Please the audience's bloodlust early, Gwaine reasoned as he cut Lancelot's forearm, and maybe they would be satisfied without a death. At least, that was how he justified it to himself.

The more brutal pace was of course more exhausting, and the intended loser found that before long, not all of his slip-ups were intentional. He didn't duck out of the way fast enough from one slash, and went down with one leg cut from knee through mid-thigh. Lancelot winced in sympathy, which would hopefully be interpreted by the audience as a grimace. He did quickly level his sword at Gwaine’s throat, and the man dropped his own blade in surrender. The winner very carefully bent down to pick it up, eyes never straying from his opponent, and then backed away with both swords in hand.

"Kill 'im, kill 'im!" The crowd chanted, but Lancelot shook his head. When he spoke, it was loud enough for all to hear.

"I've proven what I need to. There is no point in useless bloodshed."

"Except fun," somebody snickered in the crowd. Lancelot tensed at the words, remembering the last time he's refused to kill someone in a fighting ring. Heingist had seen hurt his mercy as a weakness, and given the man a more horrific death at the hands of the wilddeoren. Morgana didn't seem to have any beasts of that kind, at least, but he could imagine many horrible deaths through her magic, as well as normal execution styles.

"No," Morgana decided from where she lazed on the throne. There was a scheming look in her eyes that Gwaine distinctly did not like. "I have a better idea than killing him now. Take them back to the dungeons. This time, put them in the same cell. We'll see if honor really prevails by who survives the night."

"You wouldn't! That's crueler than the rack!" Gwaine protested to distract from Lancelot's audible sigh of relief.

"I thought you said you enjoyed his company," Morgana turned his own words back at him as they were dragged from the throne room. Gwaine cursed and shouted all the way out and most of the way down to the dungeons. It wasn't until they were safely locked away in the cell and the guards had left that he let his true feelings slip out from under the mask.

"I can't believe they fell for that!" He laughed, and Lancelot watched all the tension flood out from his body onto the stone floor where he‘d been thrown by the guards. "Worse than the rack… they did hear me earlier, right?" Lancelot blushed again as he remembered Gwaine's flirtation as they fought. It was one thing when they were alone, or even with the other knights, and quite another in front of enemy soldiers. 

"Who knows what they were thinking?" He said, sitting up. "You played them magnificently.”

"Yeah, well, you can say a lot of things about me, but I'm good at entertaining." Gwaine propped himself up on his elbows so he could look Lancelot in the eyes. "And you! I never knew you could act that well!"

"I have been hiding secrets for most of the past four years," Lancelot replied. First there had been the lie about his noble birth, though that hadn't lasted long. He still kept Merlin’s magic to himself. And while Merlin, Arthur, and the rest of the knights knew about his and Gwaine’s… whatever they were calling it, they did not let even rumors of it expand to outside the immediate group. Uther, as degraded as he was, would’ve had them executed for it while he was alive. The noblemen still loyal to the old values and families were already looking for an excuse to get rid of the commoner knights, and could still make life very difficult for them, even with Arthur now king. If he ever won back his throne from Morgana, that was. "I do know some things about acting,” the knight continued

"Lancelot du Lac, you never cease to surprise me," the other knight said, sitting up all the way and leaning forward to press a kiss to the other man's lips. Lancelot, for his part, deepened it, breaking off only when Gwaine winced against him.

"How bad is the cut?" He demanded, already grabbing the small blanket left in the cell and tearing a strip off of it for bandages.

"Truly, it isn't dire," Gwaine protested. "Hardly more than a scratch."

"Let me bind it anyway," Lancelot insisted. For once, the cheeky knight actually did as he was bid, though it might've been more because he wanted the feeling of the other's hands on his body than anything else. He hadn't lied either, and though the cut down his leg was long, it was thankfully also shallow. The slash Gwaine had delivered to Lancelot's arm was actually deeper, and took longer to stop bleeding even once it was bound. It did stop though, eventually.

The guards hadn't thrown them any of the moldy bread tonight, so once their injuries were tended to, there was nothing more for them to do. Despite the promises Gwaine had made to himself about what he would do to and for his partner if they survived, the stress of the day was getting to them and all they each really wanted to do was rest. A bunk with a thin straw mattress was attached to one wall of the cell, but it was much too small for the two of them together. Instead, Lancelot just took the tiny blanket (already small and diminished further by their need for bandages) and, shifting closer to Gwaine, pulled it over the two of them as best he could. The dungeons were cold and the stone floor hard, so the two men sought the warmth and comfort of each other's bodies. After a bit of debate, they finally decided on Lancelot as the big spoon, with Gwaine all but curled up in his arms. If anyone came in and found them like that, their act of hatred towards each other would be ruined, but neither man could find it in himself to care.

"I was afraid they would kill you," Lancelot murmured into the other man's neck. "Last time I showed mercy in a fighting ring, it did not turn out nearly as well as this."

"I did not think they would actually put us in the same cell," Gwaine replied with a soft laugh. The lightened mood did not last long, however. "I imagine Elyan and Gaius are worried though."

"You were with them before? How are they?"

"They will be well enough, if the guards continue to feed them. I pray that they will, even though I’m not there any longer to fight for their supper. Gaius needs to keep up his strength." There was silence in their cell for a long minute.

"Do you think Morgana will make us fight each other again tomorrow?" Lancelot asked, finally putting words to his fear. "The same tactic will not fool her again.”

“I do not think she has a plan yet, given how she didn’t seem to expect you to survive the night,” Gwaine sighed. It left a bad taste in his mouth that even one such as her would think him capable of such cold-blooded murder, and even though he had encouraged that train of thought. “I suspect she will be mad when she finds out she was duped, and I don’t envy our chances tomorrow. But,” he said, cuddling further back against Lancelot, "I remain optimistic though, on our chances of survival. Perhaps Merlin will come and save us before then."

"Perhaps," his partner agreed. They had both learned long ago not to underestimate the servant.

"Maybe she'll have us fight together," Gwaine suggested.

"That'd be nice. I like having you at my back."

"If you want, we can flip positions." Lancelot rolled his eyes at Gwaine's joke. "But, in all seriousness, I like having you at my back as well."

"Then I will stay there as long as I am able.”

They drifted off together, warm in each other's arms and in the knowledge that whatever happened tomorrow, they would face it together.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love getting feedback about my work, especially characterizations. I think I captured Gwaine (pun absolutely intended) better in this work than in my others? Idk, tell me what you think.


End file.
